GUTI: The First Crew Member
by Niji Hitomi Kabra
Summary: After Sabo is kidnapped back to his birth parents, Luffy has a hard time adjusting to life without him. When things get too much, the 15-year-old seeks freedom through brawling in the back streets of Four Blues City. But this time he's bitten off a little more than he's used to. Who's the crazy, green-haired punk with the sword? And why does it sound like Smokey's got a collection?


**A/N:** Set before the start of Getting Used to It.

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><p>"Damn it! Where are you...? Luffy, wait!" Ace clutched at the strap of his bag tightly and grit his teeth, staring anxiously.<p>

The younger brunet stopped, shoulders tense, his hands in fists in the pockets of his sleeveless hoodie. He glanced at his brother, hat low and shading his face. "I gotta go."

He didn't like having to pull away, but they just wouldn't leave him alone today. Every class, he could feel it, the way the teacher looked at him. Like they knew anything of what he was dealing with, like they could sympathize at all. It made him sick! Their pity! He didn't need to be pitied! He needed Sabo back. He'd needed Sabo back for two years. But the stupid teachers couldn't give him that could they? No. Every option he'd explored himself to bring back the sunny blond that completed their trio was met with 'there's nothing you can do, kid'. So he found another way to get that feeling out of his system.

And like every other junkie, he needed his fix. Especially on days like today.

"But where?" Not like he didn't already know but... Ace tiredly carded a hand through his hair, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and chewing his lip. "Look can we please just… go home? We're already so close!"

Luffy shook his head. He had to go. He had to. He could already feel the itch, and was unconsciously bouncing on the balls of his feet, edging away from the hand on his backpack.

The elder brunet let out an exasperated noise. "Seriously? You're just going to go off and—"

He cut himself off before he could finish the sentence. This was different. This was Luffy, he... Ace sighed and stepped back, pressing his lips together.

The fifteen-year-old's signature hat plopped down on his brother's head, and he smiled, albeit a little sadly, "Sorry."

Then he was gone, running down the alley they'd just passed. The last Ace saw of him was a vault over a dumpster that had required running across the wall first. Landing brought him down on the other side of the trash bin and around the corner with an echoing 'whoop' of triumph, which sort negated his apology from before, but that was just how Luffy was. Especially lately. He was only free when he was out, by himself.

Ace let out a frustrated sigh and scrubbed at his eyes, then adjusted the hat on his head, grabbed his little brother's discarded bookbag, and turned back in the direction of home. He worried - worried a great deal, was utterly terrified of being alone as he was- but they were close to home, and he trusted Luffy. His brother would come back soon enough...

'I hope.' Was a whisper in the back of his mind.

As soon as the door closed on the bar that would one day become the Thousand Sunny, there were eyes on him. The bartender, the cook, the security guys, even the waiters—a couple of flashy guys on loan from Iva-chan until Dragon could get around to hiring new ones. It was their substitute mother's voice that cut through the tension.

"So, where's your brother?"

"Ran off to do something." Ace said simply, one hand playing with the rim of the straw-hat and his gaze averted to the ground. He tried to keep his voice neutral.

"Again?! I swear that boy has no respect for the time and eff—"

Dadan cut Dogra off with smack to the back of the head and the smaller cook glared at her for a moment before shuffling off to the kitchen grumbling under his breath. Makino, a young woman barely older than Ace and Luffy who had been hired to wash the dishes, bit her lip and almost said something but their head of security, a large, stoic man named Kuma, put his hand on her shoulder and shook his head. They all had taken Sabo's loss hard, the whole place just felt darker without him, but none had taken it as hard as Luffy. And if this was what he needed to do to deal with that, none of them were going to stand in his way.

Dadan cleared her throat, pretending to need a drink. "C'mon, brat, I've got potatoes that need peeling, and a sink full of dishes. You can do your homework after the bar opens."

"Yeah. Sure. Whatever."

Ace made his way around and dumped both of their bags carelessly on the ground and kicked them out of the way, making a mental note to pick his own up later to make sure he hadn't crinkled any of the papers inside it. He'd made some sketches today of which he was quite proud, and didn't want them ruined. But for now he was compliant, entering the kitchen and set about doing what Dadan wanted. He just felt grateful for none of them making a big deal out of watching him until he was sure the stress of the day wasn't going to trigger an episode.

Maybe Makino would want to go clothes shopping a little later…

Kokoyashi Village wasn't the most well-to-do districts in Four Blues City, but for all of its problems it couldn't hold a candle to the district known as Grey Terminal, a run-down slum where thugs and drug addicts carved out their living exploiting the abandoned warehouses. The suitably named area was dirty and seemed faded from the wear and tear on the buildings. Even the garbage men didn't run the streets more than once a month, if that. So litter and junk just piled up in the corners, cluttering the already down-trodden neighborhood further.

In short, it wasn't somewhere anyone went unless they were looking for trouble, or were truly desperate.

It was a good thing then that Luffy was both.

His back slammed into the dirty bricks of the old factory, and he wiped his mouth with the edge of his wrist. This fucker! He was fast! Strong! He brought out that inner rage that fueled the bouncy teenager. Luffy jumped back at him, fist held high, too high, as a bluff, and he found himself pleasantly surprised when the guy's sword—SWORD! Who the fuck fought with a sword these days?!—caught both his right hook and the sucker punch he'd pulled back to sock the guy's gut.

Luffy laughed, which made the green-haired punk just growl in return. It was a vicious cycle, he'd laugh, the guy would get angry, and Luffy would laugh harder. That was how they wound up fighting in the first place.

Built like a truck, grass-green hair, pierced ear, and looking lost as a penguin at the equator. Luffy saw him and immediately thought he was hilarious. Green-head had taken offense to that, naturally. He apparently had a thing about people making fun of him for being lost. Though really, what had the guy expected wandering around Grey Terminal like that?! He was asking for some asshole to pick him off, especially carrying around that white katana like he was.

Little had Luffy known the guy actually knew how to use it!

So there they were, slamming into each other, neither giving ground nor taking any. Luffy was laughing his head off, the guy continued to growl like some kind of big cat, and the more permanent residents of GT slunk away in the shadows trying to avoid the teenaged powerhouses.

The brunet got a high kick in, snapping the guy's head around to the side for half a second before he went flying into a dumpster. He picked himself back up, shaking his head to clear the fuzziness, and bull-rushed the bouncy boy, sword aimed to slice his head off. Luffy ducked and flipped back around to bring both hands down on the back of the guy's neck, but somehow the sword was there instead, sending a rattling shudder through Luffy's frame on impact.

Below them, the concrete cracked from the shockwave.

Somebody screamed, "PIGS!"

But neither teenager paid any attention to the way the gutter rats scrambled for safety inside the condemned buildings around them. They were too focused on trying to kill each other.

Green-haired dude elbowed him, and brought his knee up into Luffy's ribs. Luffy clocked the side of his neck. Sword guy spun them so fast the smaller teenager thought he was going to lose his lunch, but held on, grabbing the back of the guy's used-to-be-white shirt. He used the momentum of their spin to flip them both and pull the other off of his feet. He went flying again, and that was when the world stopped.

The crunch of metal was almost louder than the pulse of siren as sword dude crashed into the door of the cop car.

Luffy's eyes went wide and he spun on his heel to run, only to get a face full of uniform over tightly muscled chest, and the heavy scent of cigar smoke.

"Strawhat, what're you doin'? Thought we had a talk about this last time."

The cop's voice was gruff, but in the way that meant he'd been smoking since he was a kid, not like he was angry. Actually, if Luffy had to pick an emotion on the man's face, he'd have gone with tired disappointment. So, the young brunet actually looked at his feet, shifting his weight and trying not to look as guilty as he was.

"They wouldn't leave me alone, Smokey." Was all he said.

Above him, Smoker sighed heavily. He knew the kid wasn't talking about the guy sprawled out with a concussion against his car. His eyes flicked to his partner, and relief flooded him when he saw Tashigi was pulling the kid gently into the back of the car. He didn't know if it was the way the bouncy brat had scrambled the kid's head, but he looked like he'd seen a ghost. Whatever, as long as he wasn't putting up a fight. From the damage to the alley, Smoker was pretty sure if these two worked together, he wouldn't have the manpower to bring them both in.

And leaving them on the street after the sun was fully set simply wasn't an option. Not when he knew them both the way he did.

"C'mon. You know the drill." He turned his attention back to the fifteen-year-old in front of him.

It broke his heart a little more when all Luffy did was nod and walk to the car. Fuck those assholes must have really gotten to him for him to be that compliant right away. Smoker gripped the steering wheel of his car a little more tightly than he would have normally.

As soon as they got to the station, he growled, "Tashigi, book 'em. I'll be back."

"A-ah! B-but, Sencho! You're going now?!" The slender brunet woman pushed her glasses back up her nose, and glanced at the teenagers in the back of their car.

"Need to make a phone call."

"Oh." She nodded, understanding his tone. Then she turned to the kids. She reached in and hauled the green-haired boy out first, "C'mon, you. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can be…"

Smoker let her voice fade into the background as he stepped around the corner of the precinct building, a cigar between his lips, and his phone up to his ear. If he'd been less worried, he'd have laughed that the man's number was on speed dial from how often he called him.

"Yeah, it's me." A pause. "Yeah, I got him. Picked up the kid he was fightin' with too… Nah, I know the punk. He's a good kid. Reminds me of you an' me… OI! Don't laugh! I was never that bad!" He took a long drag on his cigar. "Nah, he's fine. They both are… Yeah, I'm keepin' 'em overnight."

There was a second pause as the person on the other end passed on his news, when they came back, Smoker gave a nod and knew instinctively that he was understood without having to actually say anything.

"So did you look into that other thing I called you about?"

Confirmation from the other end was almost more disappointing than being told the person hadn't looked at all.

"Well, keep an eye on the place. I know I saw him the other day. He was lookin' for a way to cross South Blue… OF COURSE I KNOW IT'S IMPOSSIBLE! WHY THE HELL YOU THINK I'M CALLIN' YOU ABOUT IT!?"

A third silence let the echoes of his shout reverberate back to him from across the parking lot.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. We all did. We'll get 'im back! I don't give a shit if they're his real parents. If they cared so damn much, why'd he run away in the first place? It just don't sit right with me. An' the way they took him too. It's all fishy… Yeah, I'll call you when I let 'em go tomorrow… HA! Just help me fix the dent they put in my car before Sengoku sees it an' we'll call it square."

Laughter from the other end was loud enough to be heard as the cop pulled his phone away from his ear to save his hearing.

"Catch you later, Dragon. Yeah. Tell Jii-san, he still owes me a drink."

The white-haired police officer hung up his phone and dragged his free hand through said white hair, making it stand up on end more than it already did. With the other he took his cigar from his lips to rub off the cherry on the bricks behind him. He'd finish it later when he went out for coffee. Tashigi wouldn't be in the car then, needing to be at the precinct to watch the boys, so she wouldn't be there to bitch at him about smoking on the job.

He gave a sigh; those boys were going to be the death of him yet.

The precinct building itself housed all of the divisions assigned to patrol the South-East quarter of the city. There were technically two precinct headquarters, one in Kokoyashi, and one in Loguetown, but as far as Smoker was concerned Loguetown was a joke. He'd grown up down there, on the banks of South Blue, squashed between the giant river and the Grandline, and the cops that ran the joint were lazy, layabouts. No better than thugs themselves sometimes. Which meant that all of the important work went through Kokoyashi.

And that translated into an insanely loud desk room with all of the various blues throwing papers at each other in an attempt to at least keep someof it organized.

As he passed through the chaos, he made a mental note to make Tashigi deal with the paperwork for the boys. Again. Knowing her, she was probably already working on it anyway, so Smoker didn't really give it too much thought, letting it trickle out of his head when he opened the door to the holding cells.

The back third of the building, stacked floor on top of floor, was dedicated to holding cells for each division. Large enough to hold up to twenty detainees at one time, they almost looked like something out of a movie set instead of actual cells. Thick steel bars were all that kept the detainees from each other and the rest of the custody suite itself. Where the rest of the city, and the county's prison, had upgraded to heavy concrete, bullet proof glass, and solid doors, Kokoyashi was still stuck looking like it had back in the 50s when the precinct had first been established.

He kicked Tashigi out of her chair with a grunt, and put his feet up on the desk, hands behind his head to watch the two boys.

They sat back to back in two different cells. Both had their arms crossed over their chests, their legs folded under them, and a contemplative scowl on their faces. Smoker let the thought that he was way too old to play Peter Pan to a couple of lost boys pass through his head.

"Oi. How'd this start anyway?" He didn't really care, but if it cleared the air…

"I was goin' home." Greenie grunted.

Luffy's scowl broke completely as he fell over, literally, laughing, "You were lost as fuck!"

"Oi! Language!"

Smoker went unheard as Greenie jumped to his feet, fists shaking at his sides, and glaring at the brunet.

"I WAS NOT! THE BUILDINGS MOVED!"

Luffy couldn't answer from laughing too hard to catch his breath so the bigger boy looked to Smoker for support.

"Ya get lost a lot, Zoro, but it ain't your fault." The cop conceded.

"That your name?" Luffy was back on his feet as well, grinning like a madman. He stuck his hand through the bars, the bruises on his knuckles already starting to blossom, "I'm Luffy! Be my nakama!"

"Be your… WHAT?!"

Zoro growled, jumping back like somehow the bars between them weren't going to be enough to keep the bouncy teenager from attacking him again. His hand reached for a sword that wasn't there, and that made him clench his fists tight enough that the wrapped bandana around his left bicep creaked.

"My nakama!" Luffy repeated, no less happy.

"Like hell! You tried to kill me!"

"Nah, that was just a spar. You're strong and fight back. I like you."

"You threw me into a dumpster! What else was I supposed to do?! Just let you fuck me over!?"

Again Smoker was ignored as he tried to catch them on their language, so he gave up, pulling a bottle of soda from the mini-fridge under the desk. At least they weren't sitting there in silence.

Zoro was red-faced, utterly confused by Luffy's grin, and the hand that the other boy had yet to pull back. He stared at it like it was some kind of alien creature and for a second he thought he saw it stretch out farther than any normal person's arm could go. He shook his head.

"You're nuts. And a freak. Who goes looking for fights in Grey Terminal anyway!?"

"Who gets lost in Grey Terminal?" Luffy squashed the flash of hurt the word 'freak' sent through him in favor of grabbing onto the bars with both hands and hauling himself up off the ground with arm strength alone.

"I told you! The buildings move! It's not my fault!" Zoro went a little wide-eyed watching the feat though, and before he could stop himself, he stepped forward, "How d'you do that?"

Luffy, having wrapped his feet in the bars, let go with his hands and arched his back so that he was upside down. He tilted his head backwards, his spine folding so that he was nearly bent completely in half backwards, and he grabbed the bars again with another grin.

"What this?"

"Yes that! Holy fuck!"

He shrugged. The flexible little shit actually still had the ability to shrug all contorted out of shape like that. Zoro thought he was going to lose his mind. Maybe he already was, because something about the whole thing was infectious and ridiculous. He started laughing, slowly at first, building up until he fell on his rear end, holding his stomach, and wheezing for breath.

Like a rubber band shot from a gun, Luffy flipped over his shoulders to land back on his feet, now grinning hard enough that all of his teeth were visible. "Gramps says I'm double-jointed or something."

"That's how you ducked Wado then."

"That your sword?"

"Yeah. Her name's Wado Ichimonji. She was a gift…"

Smoker glanced up from his newspaper when he noticed the room got quiet. The kids were sitting again. This time face to face, and Zoro had his arms clenched around his ribs, looking at the wall in the way that the cop knew meant he was fighting off tears. There was a pang in his heart.

He'd known the kid since the big dust up when he was ten and Old Man Koshiro lost his daughter. The way the little mossball had rolled around looking lost and clutching that white sword of his… it had made Smoker look into his case. Turned out he was a foster kid, stuck in the system because nobody related to him wanted him, and bounced from house to house because none of them wanted him either. Too volatile, too coarse, without a creative outlet anymore. Like a thistle among a sculptured garden.

He reminded Smoker of himself at that age.

So, it came as no surprise when the kid had started getting picked up and brought in as a delinquent. He had the worst sense of direction Smoker had ever seen, and never knew when to back down. Coupled with his somehow naturally green hair, it added up to one thing: fight after fight after fight.

Well, maybe if the two were bonding they'd keep each other out of trouble some? Ha! As if Smoker could actually believe that, but at least it meant he had someone to keep them company when it happened. And if they had each other's back, Smoke could relax, if only a fraction, because with how strong they both were it significantly lowered the chances that he'd find out of them in a ditch somewhere.

Now if they could just find Luffy's adopted brother…


End file.
